


stuck on you

by Anry



Category: EXO (Band), SHINee
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Kinesio tape, M/M, Romantic Friendship, Tactile
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-25
Updated: 2019-08-25
Packaged: 2020-09-26 08:22:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20386642
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anry/pseuds/Anry
Summary: Jongin needs help taking off the kinesio tape.





	stuck on you

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry???????
> 
> If you do not know what kinesio tape is, it is that thing which you apply to your knee to make sure it doesn't get damaged while you do sports. It's a pain to take off.
> 
> btw in this fic Kai and Taemin still live in the SM dorms.

Jongin is standing in the bathroom, confused, looking at his own knee wrapped in the black kinesio tape. It’s been there for several days and his therapist said that it’s better to remove it today so they can apply the new one tomorrow.

It isn’t even the first time he is usings tapes, but before it would usually be his lower back it was applied to, so he always asked Joonmyun or Sehun to take it off. It was painful, sure, but not like that – his lower back wasn’t nearly as delicate as his thigh, as he has just found out. And he would prefer someone else to do that but he can’t just ask Joonmyun again. It’s different, his friends helping him with something he objectively can’t do and him asking for help because he is what, too sensitive?

Jongin wrinkles his nose and attempts to get rid of the tape once again. He knows he can stand pain, have done it so many times–on stage, in the practice room, stretching, dancing, –- but the sharp sensation of the tape tugging his skin while being glued to his knee like it’s there for the rest of his life makes Jongin feel hopeless. He manages to rip off about one inch of it and can already feel tears pricking at his eyes.

His phone blinks with the notification and Jongin takes that as a reason to postpone the torture.

**Taemin** : u busy? let’s watch something

With his new promotion and EXO’s concerts, it's become rare for them to hang out. Sometimes they’d meet somewhere in the dorms or in the SM building but always on their way somewhere, tiredly nodding to each other. Jongin misses Taemin. Yesterday though, he just came back from Japan and the company has given him a day off. And then their next concert is only in two days.

**Jongin** : yeah, trying to take the tape off. This shit hurts as hell

Well, at least he gets to complain.

**Taemin** : don’t tell me you’re doing it dry. You’re not, right?

Jongin frowns, unable to get what Taemin is talking about, so he just sends him a question mark. 

In a minute, he gets an exasperated smiley face as a reply and then another message.

**Taemin** : You’re at your place, right? Be there in five

Jongin can feel his cheeks flush. He didn’t intend asking for help, just to complain. But then he knows that Taemin also uses tapes a lot and probably knows something that can make this better. Or at least just generally make it better just by being here.

He looks in the mirror, his eyes still red from earlier. He's just wearing his T shirt, pants abandoned in the laundry basket. It’s not like Taemin has never seen him in boxer briefs (or without them, to be honest) before, but it is still embarrassing, especially with the tape stuck to his leg. Jongin almost gets angry at himself for being such a crybaby and attempts to take the tape off himself but doesn’t even manage an inch this time.

He pulls out his phone and opens some dumb game to pass time until Taemin comes to their place.

It doesn’t take him longer than five minutes. Jongin hears the distant knock on the door, and somebody opens it, greeting Taemin. They would probably think it’s weird that Taemin goes right to the bathroom where Jongin is, but then again, it’s not like anyone would even care at this point of their promotion even if Jongin started dancing naked on the kitchen table.

Not like that has never happened before, too, but he would prefer to never, ever think about this again.

Taemin attempts to open the bathroom door, but it’s locked, so Jongin gets up to open it. Taemin walks in. He looks stunning like that, with the blond hair, in a white t-shirt from the last SM town and ripped jeans. He is tired, Jongin can tell right away, but handsome and soft. Jongin still isn’t over his last MV and a choreo Taemin performed there. He should teach him that someday.

Jongin manages a quiet, “Hi.”

Taemin eyes him critically, probably noticing both the tape, with less than two inches of it taken off, and Jongin’s red eyes. It’s embarrassing, but not too much. It’s Taemin and Taemin saw him crying so many times, Jongin wouldn’t care to count. He just hopes that this time Taemin won't be filming his tears while ripping his skin off together with the tape. Even though he never showed anyone any of the photos he took that time. Said it’s a ‘precious memory.’ Dork.

“Jongin, how many years have you been dancing, care to remind me?” Taemin’s voice is sarcastic, and Jongin just shrugs, suddenly too vulnerable and annoyed to find a good reply. Taemin, always knowing when to keep prying and when not, drops his jokes right away, looking at Jongin with much more sympathy than he can take right now. He is so happy to see Taemin. He is so tired. 

“Okay, Jonginnie,” Taemin voice is soft yet confident, like when he teaches him a dance move. He takes him by the elbow and pushes slightly towards the bath. Jongin complies.

“Get into the tub and sit on the edge. We need water,” Jongin does as he is told, suddenly feeling a lot calmer. Taemin knows what he is doing. And it’s Taemin knows how to deal with him, has learned his ways a long time ago. And he always takes care of Jongin.

Taemin switches on the hot water, checks the temperature, and then adjusts it to make it hotter. He doesn’t speak. Jongin is sure Taemin knows that he is too intimidated to come up with a reply anyway. The water reaches his feet, barely touching before leaving down the drain. It’s warm.

Taemin finally looks satisfied with the temperature and switches it to the shower mode, waiting again for it to get right.

“Jonginnie, straighten your leg,” Taemin’s voice is pure velvet, with how he calls him ‘Jonginnie’, but also firm, so Jongin can’t muster any energy to argue or say that he can do everything by himself. He just does as he is told.

Then Taemin just holds the shower above Jongin’s knee cap. The water is hot, but not unbearable – it takes just a minute to adjust to. The tape is getting wet slowly, the material darkens. Taemin reaches his other hand to his knee and that has Jongin tensing immediately, expecting pain.

Taemin doesn’t tease him for that, and the pain never comes. Instead, he just runs his fingers gently on the edge of the tape and where Jongin has removed it. It's an intimate gesture. Too intimate, but nice.

When the color of the tape becomes solid, wet and dark all over, Taemin switches the water off.

“Get out and sit on the floor,” he says in the same firm voice, and Jongin wants to make a joke about Taemin ordering him around but somehow can’t. It’s so profound, and he still feels too vulnerable. There’s also a certain mood, the same one which settles between them sometimes, and Jongin knows it would go away if he talks.

When he is settled, Taemin has already wiped his hands off Jongin’s towel and got a small ampule of something out of his pocket. He kneels down next to Jongin, silently guides his leg to be bent, the same position they used to get the tape on him. Then he opens the ampule and drops some of the liquid on the tape and Jongin’s knee. It’s oily and smells of lavender.

He doesn’t question what Taemin is doing when he starts lightly massage the oil into the tape, running his fingers over it and Jongin’s skin. It feels nice. Taemin’s long, beautiful fingers, white skin on Jongin’s darker one.

When Jongin’s feels arousal, he isn’t surprised. It’s a light one, nothing to worry about. It’s been awhile since he had sex or even cared enough to jerk himself off because it required effort and energy he doesn’t have. And dancing is better than sex, anyway. Taemin knew that, too. Dancing lasts longer, is more fulfilling, more beautiful.

It wasn’t new that Taemin has this effect on him, too. Especially when they dance together, the hot tension in the room being too much. Jongin never saw a point in getting embarrassed about that. In the end, he could see that Taemin was the same, also riled up from dancing, from them dancing together.

Then, just for a moment, Jongin remembers the couple of times when they did something with this arousal. It wasn’t a frequent thing, wasn’t anything big, just tension becoming too much to let them keep training. Jongin couldn’t think of Taemin touching him as something more special than dancing together anyway.

Just at that moment Taemin raises his eyes to look at Jongin, probably just to check up on how he is doing, but instead – finding him flustered, thinking of how they learned the dance for ‘Confession’ together.

He keeps the eye contact just a bit longer, and Jongin can feel something changing. Maybe it’s Taemin’s expression, how he narrows his eyes; maybe it’s just the air between them, the mood in the room. It becomes thick like if they were back in the practice room.

When Taemin puts his fingers on the tape stuck to the outer side of his thigh, the edge that was already ripped slightly, Jongintenses again, and Taemin touches his inner thigh, soothingly.

“Relax, Jonginnie. It should be much easier like this,” Taemin says – but it doesn't help. When Taemin realizes that, he squeezes his hip tighter and looks up again, right at Jongin, and says with a firmer voice, “Jongin, relax.”

Jongin finds himself unable to disobey when Taemin is talking to him this way. He takes a deep breath and lets go, closing his eyes. Like this, Taemin’s touch, the hand on his thigh, where he is kneeling right next to Jongin feels too intense, but even when Jongin opens his eyes again, he is unable to stop the feeling. 

“I’ll be taking this off now,” – for a moment, some kind of devilish smirk flicks on Taemin’s face, “Enjoy.” Like Jongin could really be enjoying this. But then—

Taemin tugs on the tape slowly, and the tape still pinches Jongin’s skin–but it’s not as sharp anymore. Not unbearable. Probably because of all the smart things Taemin did to it, but Jongin can’t get rid of the feeling that it’s just Taemin and his hands that do the magic.

The process continues as Taemin slowly keeps removing the line of tape on his outer thigh. The sensitive skin on the knee aches, and Jongin can feel a prickle of tears in his eyes, just a natural reaction to pain. 

When Taemin finishes with the first line, he runs his fingers gently over Jongin’s irritated skin, and the pleasure from this simple touch hits Jongin right in his head. And the other places too. The contrast between the pain, the cooling sensation of water evaporating from his skin and careful warmth of Taemin’s gentle hands all mixing together.

All of a sudden Jongin finds himself anticipating. If someone told him he would just half an hour ago, he would laugh or call them crazy, but Taemin always had that effect on him, bringing all the unexpected things in Jongin out, leaving him almost raw and out of his element.

With Taemin everything is always different because he would never make fun of Jongin, not when it matters. He would never tell anyone, he wouldn’t pry. Jongin saw him many times doing those things to other people, just not to Jongin. Once, a long time ago, he asked Taemin why. 

Back then Taemin smiled, coy but shy smile, and answered honestly like he always did with Jongin, “You’re special.” There wasn’t a point to lie. If they can dance together like they do, if they can improvise naturally without any kind of embarrassment prickling inside, Jongin doesn’t know if there’s anything they can’t do.

There’s no way Taemin doesn’t notice what his touches are doing to Jongin. There’s no way he doesn’t notice an erection through the thin boxers, and then Jongin’s cheeks are probably flaming. He wants Taemin to keep going, and when he feels his fingers on the edge of the tape on his inner thigh he can’t help but shut his eyes. It shouldn’t be turning him on so much. 

It does.

Tape ripping off feels different on the inner thigh. Flesh there is softer, and Jongin is not used to people touching him there. The pain is sharp, immediately has his eyes water, but it’s not unbearable, just — intimate. It wouldn’t feel like that if Jongin was doing that himself, it’s just the world feels more intense when Taemin watches him like this, pets his thigh with his free hand lower and lower everytime. 

Jongin knows that now Taemin does that on purpose, and that it stopped being about the tape a long time ago, but that’s fine. More than fine. Jongin can feel himself giving in completely, a tiny moan escaping his throat at another painful sensation. He can feel Taemin shudder. 

When Taemin is done with the second line, he removes the third, shortest, just below his knee — and then, just when Jongin opens his eyes a little, does something that makes Jongin’s world shutter. Taemin leans in and traces the red, irritated skin on Jongin’s inner thigh with his mouth. His lips are so soft, his heated breath skims against aching skin, and Jongin has to cover his mouth just to prevent himself from moaning again. Taemin looks him in the eyes and Jongin can’t look away, watching how Taemin changes his position, moving closer to Jongin, sitting between his legs, mouth inches apart from Jongin’s hand. 

Taemin’s left hand moves to rest on the nape of Jongin’s neck and Jongin can’t help but lean into the touch. It feels like too much, but he wants more.

Taemin leans in, to Jongin’s ear, his breath hot against tender skin again, and Jongin thinks that it’s almost as much as when they dance together. Almost as good. 

“Jonginnie,” Taemin’s whisper is calm, like he is still in control, and that doesn’t add up with how he looks, and how his hands tremble, “Can I touch you?” Jongin thinks that he would never be able to say no to Taemin — and then Taemin just has to add, “Please,” like he is the one who needs it more. 

All Jongin can do is nod, but that seems to be enough as Taemin’s right hand moves down past the elastic of Jongin’s boxers. Without teasing, or making Jongin ask. 

The way he strokes him, the way Taemin’s hand feels on his neck, soothing, all of that makes Jongin say short, “Taemin,” — almost not a word, just a whisper, just a breath. He hasn't said anything this whole time, he realises. 

He can feel Taemin shudder again. “Jonginnie,” his voice breaks, like it’s Jongin who has his hand in Taemin’s pants and not the other way around. He keeps talking, “You are so beautiful. You’re so good like that,” he takes a shuddering breath, “Shit, the way you moaned when I did that. How sensitive you are, how you enjoyed the pain— ” Jongin can barely make sense of Taemin’s whispers but wouldn’t trade them for anything in the world right now. 

“Jonginnie.”

He says it in such a soft, sweet, caring way that Jongin comes right away, just from the overwhelming feeling in his chest. He does his best not to moan, but the tiny sound still escapes his throat, and Taemin catches it with his mouth, kissing him soothingly, petting his neck, until Jongin can see straight again.

Taemin giggles happily, and Jongin lets out a laugh too. He doesn’t feel tired anymore, just light like a feather. It’s not about sex, it wasn’t sex.

Everything he does with Taemin is dancing.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading I AM STILL SORRY this is my first pwp i m not even sure it's pwp is it??
> 
> Anyway.


End file.
